A thousand dancing freezing rain drops coated his car and the inside door handle, making it almost impossible to close the door with one hand. Still six twenty one continued to sit one foot out and one in the car fumbling with the clipboard and the various colors of piece of paper sustained by it, until he found form eight thirty seven. Surveying it with a sigh and cough officer three fifty seven  moved his pencil to blank twenty seven and filled in the name and numbers he had copied from drivers license of two three nine, eight seven six, four twenty two. He left the address blank in box twenty three and moved to the bottom of the form searching for box fifty seven. Fifty eight would have been nice; that box says of course says; alive. The coroner however had pronounced three two seven ABC Pennsylvania deceased and well, that meant box fifty seven. The number on the cell listed in case of emergency was ringing in his ear piece. One ring, two rings, three, then four, then the obligatory click; “We are not home right now. But if you would like to leave a message go ahead.” He would try again at least three times. Bad news on the phone was less personal but if he could count the number of times, he had to knock on a door and see that face or those two or three faces face to face, he would for surely try at least one more time to get them on the phone. His radio cracked car four twenty seven; range check. He clicked the hand set twice then coughed again a couple of more times and replied. Four twenty seven here. The female voice replied four twenty seven number check.